


Feelings Are So Overrated

by orangepeal454



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, Anal Sex, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Fuckbuddies, Hand Jobs, Homophobic Language, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, No condoms in prison duh, Non-Explicit Sex, Porn with Feelings, Prison, Prison Sex, Riding, Sexual Tension, Slow Sex, Teasing, Unsafe Sex, but most of it is explicit don't worry, like seriously, possible triggers, so much sex in the first chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-11 01:00:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7018324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orangepeal454/pseuds/orangepeal454
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wasn’t always this way.  My head wasn’t always occupied by a single diminishing number and I felt more than indifference towards the ignorant assholes I am constantly surrounded with.  I wasn’t a bad person.  A college student who smoked a lot of weed and didn’t have any other friends besides Mark my roommate who was pretty chill.  And yes, all we did was smoke and play video games together.  I cussed a lot and it made people uncomfortable, but no, I wasn’t a bad person.  Then I killed someone.  </p>
<p>Or: Evan goes to prison and kinda falls in love</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an unbeta'd work because I don't know anyone so... yeah!
> 
> NOTE: for people who read this story a while ago, I changed the name mix up. Jonah was the original name for Evan's... Fuck buddy? They aren't really defined. Anyway! I changed it to Oliver but some of the Jonah's were left over. Sorry if that was confusing!

PROLOUGE

I wasn’t always this way.  My head wasn’t always occupied by a single diminishing number and I felt more than indifference towards the ignorant assholes I am surrounded by.  I wasn’t a bad person. College student who smoked a lot of weed and didn’t have any other friends besides Mark my roommate who was pretty chill. And yes, all we did was smoke and play video games together. I cussed a lot and it made people uncomfortable, but no, I wasn’t a bad person. Then I killed someone.

They have told me many times that I killed someone, but it’s still hard to believe it.  It’s hard to grasp the concept that I ended someone’s life. That’s it. They’re gone. I don’t remember what happened. After I saw a flash of brown hair and a blue jacket, there was a sickening crunch and an air bag in my face. From there it is a blur of trying to put pressure on where the blood is coming from before I figured out it was coming from everywhere. The cops arrived and we all took a trip to the hospital where they pronounced Lauren McGovern dead at 4:12 PM.

_What was your relationship with the deceased?_

_She was my neighbor._

_Did you see Ms. McGovern crossing the street?_

_No_

_Do you remember hitting her with your car?_

_Yes._

_Were you under the influence of drugs?_

_No._

_Are you sure?_

_Yes, God dammit!_

No one sympathized with the lazy kid who was driving home to visit his parents for the holidays. Six years here I come.

 

 ***

 

PRESENT

I hate waking up at the ass crack of dawn.  Hate opening my eyes to gray walls and a gray ceiling and rough blankets with a piece of shit excuse for a mattress underneath me.  So I guess you could say I'm mad.  Frustrated really, but more confused than anything.  How the fuck did I end up here?  I mean, what kind of guy fucking kills their long time neighbor on his way home for the Holidays. I had play dates with Lauren when we were like four, and here I am in prison for vehicle manslaughter. That is so many levels of fucked up.

“Evan! Get your ass up.  I want to get to breakfast before Charles eats all the eggs.” Oliver sighs when I ignore him, running a hand through his messy light brown curls.

“On second thought, never mind.” He slumps back onto his bed, head thudding against the wall unnecessarily loud as he huffs, “Fat Charles can eat all the fucking runny eggs he wants.  I don’t feel like having to walk all the way to the cafeteria.”

I chuckle, still facing the wall, “Somebodies moody.  Your time of the month?”

Rolling over, I look up at his petit features.  His lips curling up on one side. “I knew you were awake asshole.”

I smile back at him.  One of those full teeth grins that stretches your whole face into something garish and predatory.  He just exhales sharply through his nose, arms crossed over his thin chest, with the shit excuse for a smile teasing the corner of his mouth. 

“Come on then.” I say, pushing myself up on the bed, the springs groaning, I stretch my arms above my head.  With my eyes half closed I can still see the way Oliver eyes the thin strip of skin exposed where my shirt rides up, before quickly averting his eyes to the gray floor, the tips of his ears tinged pink.  Smirking, I get up and trod out of the room, not bothering to look back as I can already hear my cellmate’s footsteps following behind me.  I guess this place really isn’t Satan’s-pit-of-despair after four years, two months and eight days of going through the motions.

Just kidding. It totally is.

 

 ***

 

FOUR YEARS, ONE MONTH AND TWELVE DAYS EARLIER

I haven’t spoken to anyone yet.  After they told me to strip squat and cough, in front of a security guard when I first got here, I think I lost hope in the human race.  I also really don’t appreciate catcalls from old men.  I’m not a fucking “pretty boy” thank you very much.  I take pride in the scruffy half beard I’ve grown, even if it’s ginger and Marcus tells me I look like a fucking Leprechaun.

I try not to show it but, I’m still plagued by nightmares.  Blood running down my shaking hands.  Hearing hiccupping pleas for 911.  It’s obvious to anyone who looks at me closely that I haven’t slept the entire time I’ve been here.  How can I, when I wake up in the middle of the night, shaking with cold sweat dripping into my eyes and down my back.  The dreams are too fuzzy to really be memories.  I can’t even place the face of the person who lies dying in front of me.  It changes every time.  Sometimes it’s my mom, and other times it’s that lady in the green shirt I saw in the grocery store that one time. God I’m pathetic. 

My parents came to visit me at first.  After a couple times their faux-comforting words started to get annoying.

_My father’s stern voice filled my ears, not enough to draw my attention away from the crack running down the side of the mud brown table in front of me._

_“Now son, we are still trying to find more evidence to help your case, so don’t---”_

_“It’s fine.  Just leave it.”_

_“Oh honey!”  My mother buried her face in my father’s dress shirt, huge shuddering sobs wracking her body._

_“Now look what you’ve done!”_

_“Yeah Dad. Look what I’ve done.  I’m in fucking prison for killing a woman I lived a block away from most of my life.  And you know what, I deserve this. Six years is a lot less than most people get for killing someone. So stop fucking acting like I didn’t do anything wrong.” I’m spitting my words at him now.  Flinging the venom, I’ve kept all bottled up at his shocked face._

_My father’s mouth is opening and closing.  It looks so much like a dying fish that I laugh.  I actually laugh.  And it comes out sounding crazed._

_Jesus, what have I done?_

_He finally jolts out of his shock and hugs my still shaking mother closer to him, who now is looking at me like she doesn’t understand.  Like she’s forgot who I was.  Like she can’t bear to look at me._

_“Y-- you’re not thinking strait right now.  We will come back at a time when we can discuss the ---- the actions that need to be taken in order to--” He stops when I finally meet his eyes silently telling him that I just can’t anymore.  That I’m just done.  He can’t hold my gaze, his eyes sliding down to where my hands are clenched around the arms of my chair, knuckles white.  His eyes try to lift again to meet my eyes, instead flicking to the door and then to his trembling wife.  He looks like a cornered animal, the muscles in his face twitching with emotions that he denies he possesses.  Even though I’m the one stuck behind god damn bars.  He doesn’t have the fucking right to be uncomfortable._

_He clears his throat. “Good bye Evan.  We will see you--- um. Soon.”  He nods to himself as he pulls my mother along with him to the door._

_I don’t call out to them as they leave.  Just return my gaze to the crack running down the side of the table, waiting for the guard to tell me to leave._

They tried to contact me again several months later.  I ignored them.  It’s better this way.  By the time I’m out of here, I won’t want to see them anyways.  I probably won’t be the same person.

 

 ***

 

PRESENT

Sighing, I look around my cell.  I like to count the cracks on the walls.  I don’t know why I have this obsession with the imperfections in this place.  I think I like to imagine that the cracks could open up and swallow me.  Take me into their dark arms and smother me.  Sometimes it seems like a nice alternative to the reality.  The reality that I am stuck in a form of purgatory caused by a horrible accident. But, right now? I don’t feel like escaping.

Mindlessly I run my hands through the brown curls that belong to the head currently bobbing between my legs.  Oliver's mouth makes an undignified popping sound as he lets my cock fall out of his mouth. His lips are red and puffy from sucking me off for the last fifteen minutes.

“Still with me?”

“Mhmm, yeah.”  I say softly as I run my thumb over his pale cheekbones.  He rolls his eyes, huffs and bats my hand away.

“Do you always get so introspective when someone sucks your dick, or is it just me?” He smiles, his green eyes glinting with laughter at my blissed out expression.

“Just you.” I pull him up into my lap and kiss him.  His mouth automatically opening for my tongue when I trail it along his bottom lip.  I didn’t kiss him when this first started.  It was more that we both needed something. Anything.  To feel less empty and alone.

Running my hands down his chest towards his crotch thumbing his nipples through his shirt on the way, making him moan into my mouth and his legs cinch tighter around my hips.  I palm him through his pants, breaking away from his mouth momentarily, our foreheads resting against each other as we both look down to where I’m groping him.  “God—fuck. I love it when you’re already hard from sucking me off.”  He moans again, his mouth falling open and his eyes closed, panting, knuckles turning white where they grip my clothed shoulders.  He bucks into my hand, wantonly riding it as I pull him into another sweltering kiss, nipping at his bottom lip and sucking his tongue into my mouth.  When I finally slip my hand into his tight pants, his head falls into the crook of my neck as he keens, biting back another moan.  His hot breath coming in short puffs as he whispers, “I wanna ride you.” 

“Oh shit.”  God, I'm already close. I squeeze my eyes shut at the unbearable heat of my hard on, straining out in the open air, begging for friction.  “Fuck—yeah, okay.  Come here then.”

I slide down onto my back, and lay with my head on my pillow transitioning from where I was sitting with Oliver in my lap on the edge of the mattress. I watch him undress quickly before reaching down to yank off my already unbuttoned pants. He leans over and digs under the mattress for the contraband lube I hide there. He squirts it on his fingers liberally and swings a legs over my thighs, reaching behind himself. I watch him open himself up with his fingers, running my hands almost reverently up and down his sides. He is staring down at my cock, red and slightly curved, of a decent size of I do say so myself. He looks at it hungrily, like he wants it back in his mouth. He licks his lips and groans, momentarily closing his eyes, before he opens them and continues to stare down at my leaking member.

“Hey. Eyes up here.” I say with a teasing grin while rubbing my thumbs in the hollows of his hips. He doesn’t respond, just slides his fingers out of his ass and adds more lube to his hand, before pumping my cock a few times, making it drip. He plays with my foreskin for a second, sliding it up and down, making me moan breathily. He finally let’s go and scoots forward, unceremoniously sinking down on my cock. I choke on the air a little as I’m suddenly enveloped in him. He rolls his hips experimentally, before raising up so only the tip of my cock is in him and then slams back down. He doesn’t slow, his mouth open and eyes closed, head thrown back as he takes my cock again and again. I realize that this is going to be over quickly. I can already feel the pre orgasm heat gathering in my lower torso, my balls tightening. Before I can change my mind, I grab his hips to stop his urgent movement and flip us over. Pulling out and turning him onto his hands and knees, before roughly shoving his face into the pillow and thrusting back into him sharply. The way Oliver keens and clutches at the sheets is definitely worth it.

 

 ***

 

SEVEN MONTHS AND TWO DAYS AGO (FIRST MEETING)

He watches me with mistrustful blue eyes. They shine bright and cold, the color matching the gray walls and morning light coming through the bared window. He has clean, but messy brown curly hair that hangs into his eyes a bit. He is lightly muscled in a way that I would call him lean, but not skinny. His posture exudes careless confidence, except for the fact that he seems to be gnawing on his lip. It makes his bottom lip a little wet and puffy.  I kinda wanna suck on it.  Oops.

“I’m Evan. And you are?” I say to break the awkward silence. My old cellmate got out on good behavior. I had a couple nice months alone, before someone was sent here to crowd my space. And here we have our lucky winner. He looks more fun than Chuck already.

“Oliver. And no, you may not call me Oli, I’m not a fuckin dog.” I don’t hold out my hand and neither does he. We are on opposite sides of the room, backsides glued to our mattresses and rusty frames.  The air between us is a stale nothing, a void I don't dare cross unless I want to spook this nervous creature.

"Well that's a weird way to introduce yourself," I quip, aiming to lighten the mood.

He glares, expression stony.

“So Oli, what are ya in for?”

He scowls at me, crossing his arms over his orange jumpsuit, shifting from one leg to the other. I try to contain my amusement by pressing my lips together.  Obviously I'm not very convincing by the way his eyes narrow further.

“Isn’t, like the first rule of prison ‘Don’t ask what people did to get in here?’”

I just shrug.

“Yeah well, don’t drop the soap and all that.” I turn away to get into my poor excuse for a bed, but before I do I see the way his eyes widen in fear, almost imperceptibly, before he to turns and climbs onto his mattress. We lay on our sides facing each other, but avoiding eye contact. I choose to focus on the place above his bed where someone chipped away at the gray paint to the gray cement underneath, leaving a large gaping hole of a different shade of gray.  So interesting.

“You better not fuckin’ touch me man. I ain’t no fag.”

“Don’t worry. Hadn’t even considered it. Though you bringing that up may not be the best idea in the future. Not everyone is as nice as me”

“Well I’m not, so fuckin drop it already.”

I finally drop my eyes to meet his. The intensity in his gaze startles me for a moment, but behind the anger I can see how shaken he is by the concept. Hell, shaken is an understatement for the look on his face.

“What? Never experimented in college?” I smirk as a range of emotions flood his features before they settle on embarrassed.

“Didn’t go to college. Didn’t grow up in the fuckin suburbs like red head over here.”

“You got me there man.” I say before rolling over and facing the wall. “Oh, and in case you were wondering, I did experiment in college.”

“Didn’t fuckin ask.” I can almost hear him blush.

 

 ***

 

PRESENT

“Shh, come on. Gotta be quiet. Don’t want them to hear how much of a slut you are,” I chuckle as I pull Oliver’s hips back to meet my slow, purposeful thrusts. Oliver whimpers again when I brush over his prostate, face turned to the side where it is pressed against the thread bare pillow. His mouth is hanging open, panting and his eyes squeezed shut. His brows are scrunched together, sweat gathering above them. He moans brokenly with a particularly hard thrust, and I laugh when he bites his arm to muffle any more noises.  

I lean forward pressing his body flush to his back, both sweaty and beyond caring. Putting my face in the crook of his neck, I drag my teeth along his pulse point making him shudder and his eyes roll back into his head. I suck on the that same spot, continuing to thrust into the tight, wet heat, but letting go of his hips and reaching up to entangle our hands and pull them slightly above our heads, pressing his entire body into the mattress. I can feel his stuttering breath on my face as I continue my assault on his neck.

I lean back and look down to where my painfully red cock is slowly moving in and out of him. Tracing his stretched pucker with a finger before slipping it in along with my cock, and reveling in his renewed squirming and moaning. “So fucking tight. Even after months of taking my cock.” I praise him before slipping my finger back out and giving a forceful thrust that shoves him up a couple inches on our rough mattress.

“Fuck. Evan.” Oliver pants out from underneath me, voice muffled from giving up on his arm and burying his face in the pillow.

“Come on. Fuck me like you mean it.” He punctuates the sentence with a thrust backwards, begging for more. I moan and swear in surprise reaching forward in retaliation and grabbing a handful of his brown locks, yanking his head backward causing his mouth to fall open in a pained and aroused gasp. His pink plush mouth forms a perfect O. I can see the beads of sweat forming on his upper lip as he tries to inhale through his mouth, breathes stuttering. The blue of his eyes is almost non-existent, only a ring can be seen around the expanded black of his pupal. My brain slows to stop for a moment while staring into his clouded gaze, hips stuttering and momentarily losing their rhythm. Fuck. Sometimes I forgets how fucking pretty Oliver is. With his high cheek bones and his soft features, stressed with arousal. I get reminded at the most inopportune moments. I shake it off and refocus.

“You really think you can stay quiet if I fuck you like I  really want to? The guards will come in here and everyone will know how much you love taking it up the ass.” I murmur into his ear, keeping my thrusts even more deliberately slow and my hand still buried in his soft hair, causing his neck to arch back almost uncomfortably. Oliver shudders and his fingers twist in the sheets, but doesn’t answer. He closes his eyes and mouth, swallowing dryly, before his lips part again, air escaping in small puffs. I abruptly let go of his hair, letting his upper body fall limply to the mattress. He keeps his head down, but pulls himself up onto his elbows, back arched and ass positioned in the air where I hold his hips firmly.

“Please. God. I’ll be quiet.” He begs in a broken whisper, voice cracking at the end, pushing himself back desperately trying to get more, get my cock deeper. I smirk down at him as I pull back slowly before sliding out of him completely.

“No! No no no. God Dammnit!” He groans frustration evident in his voice, as he huffs burying his face into the pillow and clutching at the sheets till his knuckles turn white. With his ass still in the air and chest flat to the bed, I run my hands down his sides, admiring his smooth pale skin, flushed with exertion. My hands rest for a moment on his hips, thumbs pressing into his perfect back dimples, before moving lower to his ass. Kneading the soft flesh, pulling his cheeks apart and catching a glimpse of his hole, then running my thumb over it and letting it dip inside. He moans again at the teasing touch.

“I will be quiet. I swear. Just please get back in me. Go as slow as you want. I don’t care. Just please do something. Anything.”

I’m not listening. I spread Oliver's cheeks wider, staring down at his abused, pink and puffy opening. He whimpers and clenches around nothing, his hole fluttering. “Please, please don’t stop now.” I stifle a groan. I want to give in so badly, the feeling of how good Oliver felt wrapped around my cock fresh, but I resist the temptation to dive back into him, only spreading him even more. His thighs are starting to quiver, his whole body tense and strung like a bow. His panting becomes louder as his desperation grows. “Evan. I-I can’t. Please," he whispers, his voice shaking with need. I reach down and squeeze the base of my cock, trying to stave off my impending orgasm. Fuck. Oliver is so hot when he begs. I want to watch Oliver fall apart underneath me again and again.

I lean forward slightly and watch the head of my cock slide past Oliver’s rim. His hips twitch backwards, silently urging me on. I don’t push in any farther, just letting the head move in and out of the loosened muscle. I can’t believe he lets me do this. Tease him mercilessly and openly stare at his body. I can’t handle this anymore. I’m starting to shake from holding back, from not taking him like I want to. The calm from before leaving and in its wake the realization that the man lying in front of me is shamelessly begging for my cock.

I pull away again and then flip Oliver onto his back, before grabbing his knees and placing them on my shoulders. His cock is hot and swollen, lying on his stomach where a small amount of precum was already starting to pool in his navel. He looked debauched. His usually light brown hair turned dark with sweat, plastered to his forehead. His eyes unfocused. Lips parted.

I turn my head to kiss his knee that’s resting on my shoulder, drawing an exasperated huff of laughter and an eye roll from Oliver. Then I lean over his body, bending him almost in half. Reaching between my legs, I line up my cock with his aching entrance and push forward sharply, sheathing myself in one hard thrust. And this time--I don’t slow. I let myself thrust into him quick and deep. Watching as he mouths the word yes mindlessly before his eyes flutter shut and he anchors his hands in my hair pulling me closer to him. I press my forehead to Oliver’s. He is so close I can see the light spattering of freckles across his nose. My eyes close as I give in completely to the sensation of being surrounded by him. My arms caging him in and sharing his breath.

I finally close the distance between our mouths, swallowing all of his gasps and curses, protecting us from being heard. His breath hitches when I suck on his tongue before pulling at his bottom lip with my teeth.

He breaks away gasping for air. Turning his face to the side to catch his breath. “I-I’m gonna---“he says before his whole body shivers and he cums with a pathetic whimper. His ass tightens spastically around my cock and his fingers twist deeper into my reddish hair. I bury my face into the juncture of his neck and bite down. Continuing to pound into him, chasing my release. The heat pooling in my lower abdomen is starting to become unbearable, the arousal beginning to be painful. I bite down harder, not enough to break the skin, but close causing a sharp intake of breath from him. My body tenses, my vision spotting as I cum, making the slide in and out of his body slicker. I come into awareness, body still twitching with aftershocks and with Oliver rubbing small circles on my back, still heaving from my intense orgasm. I have about two minutes until Oliver comes back to himself and starts bitching about my teasing. As of now we are both too blissed out to move. I know my larger body is probably crushing Oliver’s, but neither of us can make a move to get comfortable yet. I haven’t even pulled out.

“You are such a piece of shit.” Oliver says lowly. It would have sounded more convincing if his voice wasn’t raspy and pleased. I roll my eyes. He proceeds to shove me off of him, simultaneously pulling my dick out, causing him to grimace as my cum begins to leak out of him.

“You couldn’t have had the decency to pull out? Jesus, it’s going to be leaking out of me all fucking night.” Yup. Now we’re back. I'm never just aloud to enjoy my after glow.  I just laugh and look over at him, not really possessing the brain power for speech yet.  

“Really though. You’re a complete asshole. I don’t know why I let you get away with shit like this.” He throws his arms up in front of him in overly dramatic exasperation, letting them flop back down onto the bed with a bounce.

“The cuming in your ass or the making you beg for my dick until your shaking? Because the answer to both is, because you absolutely love it.” I smirk when he turns sharply and looks at me aghast. The blush steadily spreading to his ears and to his delectable cheek bones says differently.

“I do not!”

“Your ass disagrees,” I say as I roll closer and reach between his legs, shoving three fingers into him.

“F-fuck!” Oliver gasps out as he clenches reflexively around my fingers. His cock gives a valiant twitch, even though there is no chance of him getting hard again so soon. When my fingers lightly press on his prostate he groans and squirms in discomfort.

“Stop, stop. I’m too fucking sensitive.” I place a kiss on his temple in apology and remove my fingers, trailing them up his stomach, through the small amount of partially dried cum on his stomach, before he smacks my hand away with a small grunt. My eyes wander up his lightly muscled torso to his face which is still flushed from our previous activities. I can see his freckles across his nose and cheeks that have appeared after so many months spent in the prison yard. I thought no one actually had that type of perfect freckles till I met him. His five O-clock shadow is a little patchy, because he doesn’t have a lot of hair to begin with. I think it is endearing even if it obviously embarrasses him. I, on the other hand, will get a full blown ginger beard if I don’t shave often. I only realize how long I’ve been staring when a half smile appears on his reddened lips. His laugh is small and involuntary as he says “what?” I know he doesn’t like it when I stare at him.

I smile and lean forward, kissing his temple. “Nothin',” I murmur into his skin.

He elbows me. “Fuckin’ sap.” I just chuckle and lay back on my side of the cot. If you can really call it that. These things weren’t meant for two people

Eventually, I get up and grab the small cloth made of an old shirt we use to clean up. Wiping us both down before I climb back into bed with him and pull the thin sheet up over us. I pull him towards me, turning him so we are spooning, my soft cock pressed comfortably to ass.

“You know I’m getting out in five months? My year is almost up so…” My heart sinks a little when the words leave his mouth.

“Yeah. I know.” I bury my face in the nape of his neck, inhaling his distinctively masculine sent, trying to forget how little time I have left with him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So… you a fag or something?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter we are going to meet some new peeps, because they can't just spend the whole time in prison in their cell fucking. 
> 
> This chapter also has some derogatory slang in it so if that isn't your cup of tea I don't suggest reading this story :) Even the summary is offensive for this chapter!
> 
> Lastly, sorry for literally taking TWO FREAKING MONTHS to update. I'm sure people would love to hear all my excuses, but it was mostly just because I lost the direction the plot was going. Any who, sorry I'm an asshole!!! Hope y'all like this chapter! *Runs away and hides*

  * SIX MONTHS AGO



“So… you a fag or something?”

I roll over to look at him across the room. He is facing the wall and I can see the tension in his shoulders as he waits for my answer. Oliver and I have come to a silent type of acquaintance. We don’t really talk much unless it’s necessary. I don’t really know what to make of his unprompted question.

“Or something.” I say lowly, not wanting my voice to carry outside of our cell.

“Oh.” Is all he says, until, “you fucked a guy before?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Why you interested?”

A pause.

“No.”

Making up my mind, I slide as silently as possible out of my bed and pad across the cold cement floor. I only hesitate for a second before sliding in next to him, careful not to touch him yet. He freezes when he feels my weight settling behind him.

“I-I don’t wanna—“

“Just shut up for a second. Alright?”

I scoot closer to him, so my chest touches his back and my already half hard cock presses to his ass. He inhales sharply, but doesn’t pull away. I reach around him slowly and push my hands under the waist band of his sleep pants. I tentatively grab his cock. He is _hard._ So hard that he is already leaking. I can feel a large droplet of precum as it rolls down his length and hits my hand. I slowly slide my hand from base to tip and down again, increasing speed. He shudders and grabs my wrist when I run my thumb over the head and _press_. He doesn’t stop me, just holds on. His cock is a nice hot weight in my hand. Silky skin and the slippery precum making the slide frictionless. His breaths are coming quicker, his body begging to shake while his hips helplessly thrust up into my hand. I can feel him relaxing, sinking back into my chest. His hand leaves my wrist and comes up to grab a fistful of my hair, like a drowning man clings to a life raft. I press my face into the nape of his neck guided by his hand, my lips ghosting over his ear.

Without thinking, I start to rub my now aching cock on his pert ass. Even through layers of fabric it feels _perfect._ He keens as he curls in on himself and cums. The white pearlescent liquid drips down my hand as I pump him through the aftershocks. He whimpers and I let go of his quickly softening cock, grabbing my own, using his cum as lubricant. Three fast jerks later and my orgasm rushes out of me, stickiness coating the inside of my pants. It feels like a release. My body is suddenly lax, tension leaving my muscles that I hadn’t even known was there. Turns out prison is stressful. Who knew.

Oliver is still breathing heavily as I roll out of his bed and stumble to my own. I flop down on it less than gracefully and cringe when the springs groan under my weight.

We don’t speak and eventually drowsiness floods through my limbs, a kind of consuming heavy weightlessness takes over and my mind melts into sleep.

The next day is _awkward_. It’s like if your one-night stand was forced by law to stay in your room after you had more or less forced yourself on him. He also happens to be closeted and has got some funky internalized homophobia. We try not to make eye contact as we change into fresh clothes and wait by the cell door.

By the end of the day I feel restless. There is an itch that has been crawling under my skin since lunch. It will be lights out in a few minutes and Oliver hasn’t looked at me all day, let alone talk to me.

The buzzer goes off and the rhythmic clanging of cell doors closing jolts me from where I am sitting on my bed with my back against the wall, letting my mind drift to last night’s activities. The lights go out and I wait for my eyes to adjust. The long lines of Oliver’s body come into focus and I can’t help but admire how seamless his lithe body is. He is laying on his back, eyes closed, just resting. His arms are stretched up by his head and the sleeves of his grey shirt are rolled up to his elbows, exposing muscled forearms.

“Stop staring at me.”

“Sorry” I chuckle, “am I making you uncomfortable?”

He huffs, “no… it’s just annoying.”

“You’re just really pretty.” Oh my _God_. Did I really just say that? I internally smack myself. Let’s find a way to be creepier Evan.

“Fuck off.” He says before turning on his side so his back is facing me.

Before I can think too hard about how this may be repeating a dumb mistake, I get up and walk quietly to his bed before slipping in behind him. The result is Oliver receiving a hand job that makes his toes curl. Eyes squeezing shut when he comes, helpless moans falling from his lips, his shaky hand griping my hair yet again. I rub myself off on his ass and make my way to my own cot when I can catch my breath.

It becomes a routine. Every day we start of awkward and distant and end it with me getting us both off. A week into it he rolled over so we were facing each other. He wouldn’t look me in the eye, just watched my hand efficiently jerking him off while he twisted his hands in my shirt. His lips look so soft when they’re parted by the tiny sounds he can’t keep in.

He’s never as loud as I want him to be, always finding a way to muffle his noises. After a particularly unsatisfying day (a couple of guys had gotten into it in the yard and we were all locked in our cells three hours earlier than usual, because of protocols or some shit) I deemed it necessary to ‘change things up’.

Instead of sliding into bed behind him as usual I flip him onto his back and pull down his pants and underwear to his knees with a jerky tug. I have never gone down on a guy with so much enthusiasm. He is obviously confused and probably a bit fearful at first, but when I finally get my mouth around his cock, he melts, back arching of the bed, gasping as he pushes fingers into my hair and _pulls._ He comes exceptionally quickly and with a reverberating moan that I’m sure someone nearby heard. After I wiping the cum from the corner of my mouth, I jerk off while kneeling between his spread legs and come on his quickly softening cock.

The next day, instead of laying down when the lights flicker out, he sits on the edge of his bed and spreads his legs, eyes glued to the floor. A feeling of victorious pride bubbles up in my chest when I kneel in front of him and he shudders in anticipation.

 

***

 

FIVE MONTHS AGO

The morning light is blinding where it comes through the small window resting high the back wall of our cell. Last night I had accidently fallen asleep next to Oliver and woken up in the middle of the night realizing there was a person next to me. After moving back to my own bed I hadn’t been able to fall back asleep till the very early hours of the morning.

I slowly roll out of bed and don some fresher clothes. Oliver is doing the same and I make no effort to hide the way I stare at his sparsely clothed ass as he pulls his pants up.

We both wait by the cell door till it slides open with the sound of the buzzer echoing down the cell block and we join the rapidly thickening mass of men heading towards the mess hall. Oliver sticks close to me as usual.

After getting our food, Oliver and I sit at the usual table in the corner with a few of the more amicable inmates. Sam and Marcus are already there eating in silence. I give a nod to both of them. Sam grunts and hunches his bulking shoulders, brow furrowing further, while Marcus smiles, obviously grateful for more interactive company.

“Good morning you two.” Marcus says with an even wider grin. “Foods pretty decent today, yeah?”

I make a non-committal grunt in response, stabbing my fork into my off color eggs. I am intensely aware of the space between Oliver and I, so close I can feel his body heat seeping into my left side.

“I still think the women’s prisons probably have better _way_ better food. But then that’s kind of sexist, you know? My sister was really into that stuff.” He waves his hand in the air to explain women’s rights activism. “What do you think about that stuff Oliver?”

Startled, he looks up from where he was playing with his eggs, “What?”

“Like women and all the shit that comes with em, what do you think of that?  I mean I know I miss a nice tight pussy every once in a while.” Marcus leans forward as he says this, leering at his own humor. I scrunch my nose at the smell his unwashed hair wafting my way.

Oliver shrinks in on himself, “I-I don’t--“

“If any of you say something bad about women I will pound your fucking face in.”

We all shift our focus onto Sam whose eyes have still not left his food. Most people wouldn’t understand why Sam sits with us. His shaved head, large neck tattoos, and generally terrifying personality are a bit misleading. He used to be a pretty infamous thug back in the day, but he is currently trying to get out on parole to see his six-year-old daughter. Hence the ‘Don’t say shit about women’ attitude. Dissing women = dissing his daughter = death. He has kind of become our protector in the prison. No one wants to mess with Marcus the meth addict or Oliver and I if we are chillin’ with a 6’4 hulking beast of a man. And no, he is not doing it out of the kindness of his own heart. He happens to be Marcus’ cellmate and sits with us because he has no one else to hang with. So really, we just hit the jack pot.

“You got it Sammy boy, no trashing women at this table.” Marcus mocks salutes dramatically, drawing unwanted eyes to us. Sam just huffs and goes back to pretending to eat.

I honestly don’t know why he puts up with us.

I wouldn’t call our group friends really. More like forced acquaintances who eat meals together out of loneliness. Me and Oliver obviously have a slightly different relationship *wink, wink*. Besides the times when I’m making him violently orgasm, we don’t really hang around each other. I’ve been meaning to have a real conversation with him, but I just get distracted by his pretty lips or his ass which really shouldn’t look so good in the pants they make us wear but by god it does. Alright, enough. I’ve got to try talking to the guy I’m fucking.

Without looking up from my food, “Hey, so Oliver. Um. Do you want to go to the library with me later?” He turns to look at me, one eyebrow raised. “I just mean, um.” I clear my throat. “If you would like to we could like, go to the library instead, of, you know, going straight to our cell and…” Shit now I’m blushing. I never fucking blush. Why is this so hard.

“Uh, yeah. I guess we can do that.”

My face lifts in surprise and I look over at him, “Oh, great.” I say to the blush climbing his neck. At least I’m not the only one.

We all go back to eating our food in silence. Just as I’m about to open my Jell-O cup, after having given up on the eggs, I catch a bit of bleach blond hair in my peripheral.  

Marcus whistles under his breath, “Goddamn, what did they do to Max?”

Max used to hang with us up until a couple months ago when he got a knew cellmate. It was around the time Oliver arrived. I don’t know the new guy’s name, but I do know that he was moved to our lovely establishment after beating the shit out of someone. Max’s cheek is split and bruised and he has raw looking scratches striping one side of his face.

“Looks like his cellmate isn’t very nice.” Marcus says as he leans back to get a better look at Max. “That boy is shit outta luck.” He says as he shakes his head, returning to his meal. I’m still watching Max as he goes to the table where a few gruff looking men are sitting and meekly slides into his seat. A tall man heavily sits down next to Max, and leers at him before leaning closer and whispering something in his ear. Max’s whole body tenses, his posture wilting as his knuckles turn white where they are still gripping the tray. He stiffly stands and makes his way to the entrance of the mess hall with jerky movements. The man from before says something to the other men at the table too low to hear and their cruel laughs fill the air making the large space suddenly feel suffocating. The man leaves the table and catches up to Max. The last thing I see before they disappear from view around the corner is Max’s cellmate grabbing a handful of Max’s ass.

“Shit.” I breathe out lowly, my stomach churning as I try not to imagine what Max has been through these past months while I was enjoying giving hand jobs to Oliver. I turn in my seat to face our table. Both Sam and Marcus are oblivious to what I just witnessed. I happen to glance over at Oliver’s tray and see his hand shaking where it is poised over his food, the tip of his fork vibrating.

“Um… Dude?”

“I--I need to go --- somewhere. I don’t know.” He whispers, his voice cracking, eyes flitting around the large room.

Before I can respond he is gone, almost sprinting out of the mess hall.

I only allow myself a moment to decide whether it’s a good idea to follow him or not, before I am hurrying back to our cell.

When I arrive he is pacing the room and tearing at his hair. His eyes are wild as he whirls around to face me, chest rising and falling with quick breaths.

“He—He is going to… to that boy…”

I swallow, my throat dry. “Yeah.”

“I can’t—I can’t be in here. I—I need to leave. I _need_ to get out of here. This place is going to break me.”

“This is Prison, Oliver. You can’t just leave.” I tentatively take two steps closer. “We are here because we are a danger to society.” I try to go for witty, but it comes out bitter. Oliver takes a step towards me.

“I shouldn’t even be here.”

I snort. “Yeah neither should I.”

I didn’t realize how close we were until his breath is fanning my face and I can see the specks of brown throughout his grey blue eyes.

His eyes drop to my lips and I lick them reflexively. His breathing has slowed, little puffs of air escaping his parted lips as he regards me with wide eyes. Everything feels delayed, like we are swimming in syrup. As he reaches up towards my face, and I can feel his phantom caress before his hand even reaches me.

“I think I—I need—.” He moves closer, our noses almost touching. We are sharing air, on the precipice of crossing a line we haven’t before. I _need_ him to touch me like a deep ache in my bones. He closes the minute distance between our lips. When I slide my tongue across his bottom lip with the barest pressure, and he groans desperately. It’s as if a dam breaks. His other hand joins his right, cradling my face as his tongue pushes past my lips, the heat of it scouring every corner of my mouth. Time seems speed up, the air filled with an electric charge, our hands begin to move franticly, groping anything we can reach. He is kissing me like he can’t get enough, fucking my mouth with his tongue. I grab his waist and try to hold on as he steers me towards his cot, his lips never leaving mine.

I jolt in surprise when the back of my knees make contact with his poor excuse for a bed and let my self be guided by the momentum, ending up sitting on the edge with Oliver between my legs. I jerk away from the kiss when I feel a tentative hand slide down my abdomen and rest on my growing bulge.

“Wha—”

He looks up at me from where he is kneeling “Just don’t—don’t say anything. Please. Just let me…” He trails off, instead reaching for my waistband before pulling it down to free my now completely hard erection. It bobs in the frigid air and I hear a small intake of breath from Oliver, his eyes glued to the drop of precum rolling down the exposed head. The way he carefully takes hold of my cock and starts stroking it with a loose fist is both awful and _wonderful_. My hips twitch up seeking more and his tentative grip tightens, his wrist twisting on the upstroke. My eyes roll back at the new sensation as deep groan is drawn out of me. After so long being on the giving end of things, I had forgotten how good it felt to be touched by someone else. I can feel how Oliver’s hands have small callouses, the pads of his fingers rough. I can feel his hot breathes from his parted lips on my cock.

Without thinking I reach down and run my thumb over his cheek bone, drawing his attention away from where he's steadily stroking me. His eyes find mine, pupils blown wide as he leans forward, places his lips around the head of my cock, and _sucks_.

“Oh _shit_ ,” I choke on my words. He eyes are closed when his tongue presses against the sensitive place right under the head.

“ _Jesus,_ ” I gasp _, “_ I’m gonna—I’m gonna come.” It feels like it won’t ever stop. My head is throbbing and I’m trying to pull him off of me to spare him from swallowing and it’s too late. When I open my eyes his face is dripping in white.

“Oh my God! I am so so sorry,” I quickly rip off my shirt and use it to wipe some of my come dripping down his chin. “That was like—awesome, and I wasn’t—I wasn’t—,” I pause in my wiping. His eyes are searching my face He is looking at me in a mixture of awe, confusion and a bit of wariness. I clear my throat, “sorry.” I hold out my shirt to him in offering. With a roll of his eyes he snatches it out of my hand and runs it over his face before throwing it in the corner.

“Do you want me to…” I trail off and gesture towards his crotch.

A blush climbs up his neck and his eyes fall to the floor, “I um, already did.”

“Oh.”

“…yeah.”

“I’m gonna..” I motion towards my bed.

“Sure, um…” he stands up rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m gonna… change my pants.”

I nod, unsure how to respond, before standing and moving towards my cot. I sit with my back against the wall and my feet hanging over the edge as I watch Oliver change.

“Stop watching me.”

A short laugh escapes me, “sorry.”

“And stop saying sorry.”

“You are so demanding today.”

He turns around with a small frown bending his lips and his arms crossed.

I glance over his change of clothes which happen to be sleep pants, “So are you taking a nap?”

He shrugs, “yeah.”

“Cool, me too.”

He makes a small grunt in answer as he slides under his blanket.

“You know I am a bit cold over here since my shirt was sacrificed.”

No answer.

“It would probably be warmer if we… you know.”

He huffs and rolls over. It’s funny how his back has become a comforting and familiar sight. 

I smile and stand up, quickly crossing the cold floor, before burrowing under the blanket and pressing up against him.  I end up with my face pressed between his shoulder blades, the smell of his clean shirt lulling me to sleep.

Neither of us mention that I have a change of clothes underneath my own bed.

We never did go to the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone was confused Oliver's sentence is one year, he has been in the prison for seven months. This chapter was about his second and third months of being in the prison (hence: six months ago and five months ago)
> 
> Anyways thanks for reading guys!! I will try to get another update up sooner cuz it's summer so I have A LOT of time.  
> I would love to hear any thoughts you all have on the story and also a big thank you to every one who subscribed and left kudos!! You make my day!!

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first work AND my first time writing porn so please be kind! I would love to know what people think so far!  
> 


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